


Here I Dreamt I Was an Architect

by slash4femme



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Bonding, Love, M/M, Non-Consensual Groping, Non-Consensual Touching, Recovery, and the trauma that ensues, non-consensual mind fuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-28
Updated: 2014-03-28
Packaged: 2018-01-17 08:31:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,242
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1380913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slash4femme/pseuds/slash4femme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spock watches as things spiral farther and farther out of control</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written December 2009 
> 
> beta read by [](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/)**cardiac_logic** who is both wonderful and awesome. this was written for the prompt over at st_tos_kink _Sybok/McCoy Because that scene in The Final Frontier was kind of epic. Also would very much appreciate Spock's and/or/Kirk's pov on it._ part two will be along once Holiday exchange fics stop eating my soul.

I.  
He should have known. It should have been obvious what was coming, but Spock will admit he hadn’t been at his best. Seeing Sybok again had been a shock, to put it mildly. Seeing him like this - deranged, drunk on his own power - was even worse. It was not that Sybok was not as intelligent or as charismatic as he had always been, but Spock could see almost immediately what his affliction had done to him, what Sybok had let it do to him. Sybok had always claimed that he had chosen not to follow Vulcan teaching, but Spock knew better.

Sybok was full blooded Vulcan, Sarek’s only fully Vulcan son, and it was the irony of all ironies that it had been Sybok who had been born mentally unable to control his emotions, unable to follow Vulcan philosophy. It sometimes happened on Vulcan although it was rare, and those who suffered from it were seen as mentally unfit. Spock knew only too well what such a condemnation, to be labeled as uncontrollably emotional, would mean growing up on Vulcan. It should not have destroyed him though, Spock thought, yet Sybok had let it poison him to the root.

This then was the reason Sybok hated him, had always hated him, despite what he might tell everyone, even himself. Spock was only half Vulcan yet he had achieved what Sybok could not. He should have expected he’d be the first person Sybok would lash out against. Spock wishes he could hate him in return. It would perhaps have made all their lives easier, and certainly less complicated, if he had.

II.  
Even as Sybok spars with Kirk, Spock is conscious of the other man’s eyes constantly on him watching his reactions, until Spock almost lets himself think that everything that comes out of Sybok’s mouth is directed at him. Making such assumptions, however, is neither logical nor wise. Sybok might be mentally unstable and emotionally uncontrollable, but he is not stupid, and as his takeover of the crew has proven, he is a powerful mental manipulator with absolutely no qualms about breaking some of Vulcan’s strictest held rules about telepathy.

Spock wonders, watching Kirk, if his captain realizes the kind of danger they are all in. “Brainwashing,” Kirk says, and suddenly Sybok turns not to Spock but instead to McCoy and everything inside of Spock’s head stops. McCoy asks a question - of course he does, Spock does not know why this surprises him - but Spock does not really hear what it is nor Sybok’s answer. Instead his full mind is concentrating on Sybok, on his intentions, and realizes about two seconds too late what those intentions are, and by that time it’s too late. Sybok is indeed clever, Spock thinks numbly. The other man knows he cannot strip Spock of his control by attacking him directly, so instead he will take it from McCoy. Through breaking McCoy Sybok hopes to break Spock as well, bring him to heel. Either that or he is just randomly lashing out in his madness and delusion. Either way it will end the same. Spock braces himself against the pain, anger and need to protect his mate that is building up in him like a wave. He cannot, he must not, lose control; no matter what Sybok does, Spock has to withstand it - he has no other choice.

It is almost too easy. McCoy has no mental shields or protection, he never has, and Sybok reaches into his mind with ease, takes from him his worst memories, his greatest fear - not being able to save those he loves most - and throws it back at him. Spock stands next to Kirk and watches McCoy relive his decision to assist in his own father’s suicide, sees Sybok twist himself deeper into the other man’s mind, slowly stripping him down and leaving him bare, twisting and pushing the pain and the fear deeper and deeper. Spock tries to block it, tries to disassociate himself from it. He wills himself numb, brings up every mental discipline he knows of. He wants desperately to fight Sybok, to go to McCoy, to hold and protect him. He wants to reach out to Kirk, wants to use the other man as a physical barrier between himself and the endless wash of pain Sybok is forcing McCoy down into. He controls himself, forces his face blank. He shields his mind, pulls up every barrier he knows of, self-learned and Vulcan.

_Leonard . . .my Leonard._

They are not bonded; he cannot mentally reached out to warn or protect his mate. Yet there is always love and affection is his mind aimed at the other man, even if it is too often tinged with irritation or incomprehension. Sybok knows this, has probably known since he touched Spock the first time. Kirk had been right - for the good of them all Spock should have shot the other man when he had the chance.

McCoy’s eyes are glazed, and Spock knows McCoy can no longer see him or Kirk. He looks small, older and so very fragile when Sybok physically grabs him, spins him, pushes him hard against a support. Spock does not flinch, because he cannot. He does not look away or show any signs of weakness. Sybok presses his body close to McCoy’s for the first time, pressing him back until they are pressed together close, too close. Spock can no longer see McCoy’s face, Sybok has McCoy pressed against him so tightly - McCoy’s face against his shoulder and Sybok’s voice pitched low and intimate like one might talk to a lover. One hand holds McCoy in place by the arm with a grip far stronger than any human, and the other roves across his body, almost unseen, blocked by the two men’s bodies, but Spock knows, knows exactly where Sybok touches the other man. Sybok’s hands come up finally, skimming up the fragile skin of McCoy’s throat. Sybok forces McCoy’s head up until they are face-to-face, so close they must be sharing the same breath. Both of Sybok’s hands grip McCoy’s face, hard and controlling. Spock watches McCoy’s mouth open in a silent gasp, his eyes go dark and then blank, his body pressed between the metal support and Sybok’s own. At the same time Spock feels the wave of pleasure coming off Sybok and observes the pure desire in the huskiness of his voice, the press of his fingers against McCoy’s cheeks, the way his body is still pressed against McCoy’s. Spock fights hard against an answering wave of nausea that rises up within him, for in Vulcan culture there is no mistaking what this is.  
Spock knows it, and Spock can only wonder if Sybok is too far gone to know it as well.

_kae'at k'lasa_

Sybok’s body curves over McCoy’s, all but thrusting against him, even as Sybok pushes hard into McCoy’s mind, taking and taking.

Spock’s hands are shaking; he ignores them, does not clench his hands, does not outwardly acknowledge such a physical reaction. Sybok had been honest when he told them he didn’t brainwash people, Spock thinks numbly; Sybok does not brainwash or mentally control people, he simply moves through their minds taking and destroying parts of them with the same crudeness as an ancient Earth lobotomy.

“You have taken the first step,” Sybok says, still in that soft, intimate voice, speaking as if he has just done McCoy a kindness. McCoy looks back at him out of blank eyes, completely docile, even willing. “The other steps we’ll take together.”

Sybok turns from McCoy then, almost unwillingly, as if he is loath to give up the physical closeness he has forced on the other man. Spock knows then that the next time Sybok enters McCoy’s mind he will cut deeper, take more, take everything, until there is nothing that makes McCoy so passionate, angry, loving, joyful, irritating, irrational; none of that will be left. Spock also knows that Sybok will not be satisfied just by taking from McCoy’s mind. McCoy is Spock’s mate, Spock’s chosen; Sybok will take from his body as well, and by that point McCoy will not deny Sybok, will want him, even.

Sybok advances on Spock and Spock is relieved because this part at least will be easy. He is well acquainted with the things about himself that he has long struggled against. Two decades ago, or before his death even, Sybok entering his mind dredging up that which he had always struggled with would have been painful. Now it only serves to distract Sybok, to focus him away from McCoy. Kirk confronts Sybok, then tries to argue McCoy out of the mental damage that has been inflicted on him, and McCoy responds by defending Sybok and Spock clamps down hard on his control and forces himself away from the situation. The bridge interrupts them and Sybok turns away from Kirk, ordering McCoy and Spock to follow him without ever doubting that they will. Finally, finally Spock allows himself to react.

“I cannot go with you,” Spock tells him; clasping his hands behind his back, he pulls himself up to his full height. He pitches his voice without emotion, without inflection, so very unmistakably Vulcan, but with an edge. Perhaps to most humans it would seem almost gentle, if still Vulcan, but Spock knows and Sybok knows that this is the tone Vulcans use only when speaking to a particularly slow or stupid child, a tone that clearly says the person is so far below normal Vulcan capabilities that in any other culture they would be pitied.

“Sybok, you are my brother, but you do not know me.” _You have done the worst thing you could think of to me and yet I will not bend to you._ “I am no longer the outcast boy you once knew.” _They did not accept you and it has turned you into a monster; they did not accept me and I proved they were wrong in doing so._ “I have found myself and my place. I know who I am.” _and I am loved, I am respected, which is more then you will ever be._ “I cannot go with you.” _nor would I wish to._

He stands his ground, stares straight at Sybok, who smiles back at him, so much emotion, and so many lies.

“I guess you better count me out too.”

Shock goes through him, and for a moment he struggles not to show it, before managing to control himself. He sees the same shock reflected back at him from Sybok’s face. McCoy is still hunched over, still looking small and frail, but he speaks the words clearly, directed straight at Sybok, then turns and walks slowly but unerringly toward Spock and Kirk. Once again Spock struggles to regain control as everything in him screams to grab McCoy and bodily put himself between his mate and his brother. Spock does not do so and Sybok only smiles, and with one final exchange with Kirk, Sybok leaves.

III.  
Spock does not reach out and grab McCoy when the door slides shut behind Sybok. For a long moment Spock stares at McCoy who still looks drawn, tired and slightly glazed. It is obvious that he is not yet back in full control of his mind or himself, but he had stood up to Sybok, he had resisted him, defied him, in favor of remaining with Spock. If Spock had ever questioned his love and commitment to this man he no longer did so. McCoy might be telepathically the weakest and most vulnerable of the three, but he was in many other ways the strongest. Spock wants very much to take this man into his arms.

He does not touch McCoy, though; his hands still shake and he doesn’t trust himself to touch McCoy. They are still his brother’s prisoners and he has no idea what Sybok is planning. He needs his control; he cannot lose control, cannot let his shields down, cannot let them so much as crack - not until Sybok is off this ship and preferably someplace where he will never be able to touch McCoy again, not until they are back on Earth or Vulcan and Spock knows he has the time and safety to figure out what kind of damage Sybok has left in his wake.

IV.  
Sybok is insane. Spock had known this, rationally, but he realizes with a sick jolt that he hadn’t fully believed it until they stood on the planet Sybok had half-killed them all to reach. It should have been obvious to everyone that the entity they faced was not in fact God. Vulcans, of course, do not put a name such as God on their beliefs; however, they do believe in logic and rational existence in the same way many other people believe in a Creator, so Spock understands and respects such beliefs. He also understands that only someone who is very mentally unstable would, no matter what their religious convictions, fly a Starship into an anomaly, find a planet and then truly believe that the first entity one met was in fact one’s God.

Sybok truly believes this, though; he truly believes that he cannot possibly be wrong. McCoy is still so mentally damaged that he believes it too, simply because Sybok says it is so. Spock had known that McCoy was far from mentally well, but to see proof of it hurts anyway. He swears to himself again that if any of them live to see the end of this, he’s taking Sybok back to Vulcan himself and having him tried under a Vulcan court of law for _kae'at k'lasa_ , the penalty for which is the harshest the Vulcan legal system offers.

Kirk’s running the very high risk of being killed by an alien being that, while not a god in the strictest sense, is probably more powerful than Kirk. He’s about to point this out to Kirk when the situation escalates, namely when the entity uses an energy field to throw Kirk several paces back. Spock does what he has to then, pressing the point that had obviously hit too close to home - the logic that would reveal even to the shattered minds around them that this being was not in fact a god. The impact of the energy field against his chest not only knocks him back several paces, but also hurts considerably - a sharp, clean pain, that brings him more control and clarity of mind than he’s felt since first seeing his half-brother again. Spock does not know if it is the logic of his and Kirk’s argument or the sight of them both being attacked for asking that shakes McCoy back out of whatever insanity he had been reduced to. He goes to Spock, touches him, holds him even though he has no medical equipment to actually use. Spock tries hard not to flinch away from the other man’s touch.  
This is not the time.

“Forgive me, brother,” Sybok says then, and for a moment Spock sees the very young, very broken boy he had once known. “Forgive me.” And Spock forces himself to touch him in kindness, for their father’s sake, although he knows he will never, ever forgive his brother the pain he has caused. Then Sybok is gone, sacrificing his own life to save theirs. Spock watches his brother die and for the first time in his life truly feels no emotion, then Kirk grabs him and all three of them run.

V.  
McCoy comes to him the first night of the return voyage. Spock takes him in his arms then and holds him close, and McCoy sinks against him, relying on Spock’s superior strength to keep him standing. Spock kisses McCoy’s hair, forehead, face and finally lips, and McCoy’s hands, when they come up to frame Spock’s face, are shaking. They don’t talk then, they don’t make love, they don’t even cry or mourn. Spock leads McCoy to the bed, which is still made up for a human, which he had not bothered to unmake. He kicks off his own boots, pulls off the jacket to his uniform before pulling off McCoy’s jacket as well. McCoy kicks off his boots and Spock’s arms go around his waist, pulling McCoy down with him onto the bed. They just lie there together, holding each other, without speaking, still fully clothed, and neither of them sleeps very much that night.

Vulcans do not feel guilt, but Spock finds he doesn’t like himself very much after the entire incident. He had not handled it well; he had not stood up to Sybok when he should have, nor had he taken decisive action when it was called for. Most of all though, he had not protected his mate.

When they get back to the apartment in San Francisco, Spock meditates for three days straight and then goes to see Sarek. Sitting stiffly in full uniform in Sarek’s very formal office, he tells his father of Sybok’s death and then tells him of the events surrounding that death. Sarek listens without comment, lips pressed tightly together, and then finally stands and paces to the window, his back to Spock. Spock folds his hands in his lap and waits.

“I thank you, Spock, for bringing this news to me,” Sarek says finally, turning to Spock. “Sybok is dead, and therefore cannot be brought to justice for his crimes, but in time all may heal.”

Spock nods formally, then stands holding out his hand to his father in the Vulcan gesture of farewell, which Sarek copies.

“Live long and prosper, Spock.”

“And you, Father.”

Spock leaves him then.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they both struggle to deal with the aftermath of what Sybok did and move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beta read by [](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://cardiac-logic.livejournal.com/)**cardiac_logic** who is both wonderful and awesome. this was written for the prompt over at st_tos_kink _Sybok/McCoy Because that scene in The Final Frontier was kind of epic. Also would very much appreciate Spock's and/or/Kirk's pov on it._

  
I.  
“Spock.”  
  
Spock looks up from his computer at McCoy hovering in the doorway of his office.   
  
“Yes, Leonard?”   
  
“We need to talk.” McCoy still looks tired, small and unwell, but his voice is firm - the one he uses when he doesn’t want to be argued with.   
  
Spock does not sigh, although he does wish to. Instead he turns in his chair, his back to his computer, giving McCoy his full attention, folding his hands in his lap.   
  
“Ok look.” McCoy stalks into the room, looking unhappy. “I know you’re feeling hurt and guilty about the whole thing with Sybok,” Spock barely restrains himself from flinching at his brother’s name, “but we need to talk about this.” Spock inclines his head slightly and McCoy sighs. “Look, I don’t blame you, of course. This wasn’t your fault. Sybok was clearly out of his mind.” McCoy rubs both hands across his face. “I’ll be ok. I know I will. Spock, just look at me for God’s sake. You’ve been avoiding me since we got back. You’ve barely spoken to me, not to mention touched me. I just need . . . ”  
  
Spock moves finally, standing and closing the small distance between them to take McCoy into his arms. He holds the other man tightly and McCoy’s arms come around his waist, and Spock can feel McCoy’s hands shaking slightly against his back. Spock’s grip tightens on the other man and he presses his face against McCoy’s hair.  
  
“What do you need?” Spock asks, and McCoy makes a little desperate sound and kisses him almost bruisingly hard, tongue pushing into Spock’s willing mouth. His hands move across Spock’s body, touching everywhere he can reach, and when they finally break the kiss to breathe, McCoy grabs Spock by the hand and drags him toward their bedroom. Spock follows willingly because he knows McCoy needs physical closeness and comfort. Once there McCoy strips Spock out of his robes with hands that shake, and begins pulling off his own clothes. He pushes Spock down hard onto the bed and Spock reaches out for McCoy who settles on top of him, kisses him hard, and presses against him.   
  
“Spock.” McCoy’s voice is deep, desperate, not at all steady, “Spock, please, I need you, I need to feel you, please.”   
  
Spock catches the other man’s face between his hands and for a long minute stares at him. “Leonard . . .”   
  
There is something wrong here but Spock cannot tell if it is McCoy or himself.  
  
“Spock, please.” McCoy kisses him again just as hard and Spock strokes soothing hands up and down the other man’s back, trying to get McCoy to calm down and stop shaking. “Please,” McCoy presses his face against Spock’s shoulder, his hands gripping Spock’s arms so tightly Spock suspects there will be bruises tomorrow. “Spock, please, I need you to take me.”   
  
Spock suddenly realizes with a shock that he doesn’t want to be here, he doesn’t want to be doing this, and it is not because he does not love McCoy or even physically desire him as much as he ever has. Spock grabs McCoy’s arms and pulls the other man away from him. “No.” McCoy stares at him in shock and Spock struggles hard not to sigh, “Leonard . . .”   
  
Spock sits up and McCoy wrenches himself away from Spock. “Spock?”  
  
“Leonard. We cannot.” He does sigh then, “I cannot. Not like this. I . . . I am not ready, and I still do not know the extent of the damage done to you.”   
  
“Spock,” McCoy sounds severely annoyed. “I am fine.”   
  
“No,” Spock touches his cheek gently, “you are not.” He brings one hand to McCoy’s face and McCoy flinches away from him. “Please,” Spock says softly, “please let me inside of your mind, Leonard.”   
  
There is fear in McCoy’s eyes now where a few minutes ago he had been all but begging Spock to enter his body, and Spock sets his jaw. They are not all right, either of them. He takes McCoy by the chin, does not miss that the other man is shaking even worse now, and presses his fingers against McCoy’s face, entering his mind. McCoy cries out and then goes limp, and Spock stays only long enough to understand the full extent of the damage and pulls back quickly, clasping his hands together to keep them from shaking. McCoy reaches out and touches Spock gently on the shoulder, although McCoy’s hands, too, are shaking quite obviously. Spock grabs him then and hauls him close until McCoy is sitting practically in Spock’s lap, and Spock kisses his hair and his face and holds him tightly.   
  
“I am not ready to be intimate with you like that again, Leonard,” Spock finally says. McCoy opens his mouth and Spock quickly holds up one hand, “Let me finish. This is not because of any failing on your part, Leonard; please do not think that. Nor is it because I do not desire you, but I . . .” Spock searches for words and McCoy sighs finally and reaches out to capture Spock’s hand in his own.  
  
“He hurt you too,” he says softly. “Probably worse than me because I don’t really remember it.” Spock thinks about this statement and then finally nods, and McCoy’s hands come up to cup his face. “Oh Spock.”   
  
“Leonard.” Spock catches McCoy’s hand again in his own. “I believe it would be best for both of us if we request time off from Starfleet and go to Vulcan. I have a small house.” Spock tells him softly, “We will be quite comfortable and there are healers on Vulcan specifically trained to help those who have suffered as you have . . . as we have.”   
  
McCoy thinks about that for a long moment and then finally nods. “Ok. We can give it a try.”   
  
Spock pulls him close and kisses him again. “If at any point you wish to return to Earth, we will go,” he tells the other man softly, and McCoy just nods.   
  
II.  
  
Being back on Vulcan is good. It is calming; it helps him a great deal to be there. McCoy is not nearly as comfortable on Vulcan as he is on Earth, and Spock understands and respects this. However, humans are not telepathic by nature, and their healers and doctors are not trained as to how to deal with the kind of trauma and damage McCoy has endured. Spock is only grateful that McCoy had agreed to come at all and to see the healers who can help him. Years ago, convincing McCoy that this trip was a good idea would have been difficult at best. However Spock has found that after his death, McCoy’s opinion of Vulcan medicine and healing practices had risen considerably. Spock is grateful for this. The healing and meditation practices the healers recommend help Spock considerably.   
  
Spock is meditating when McCoy comes home; he has in fact been meditating for several hours, and when McCoy lets himself into their house Spock feels the exhaustion coming off the other man. He rises, sets aside his fire pot and meditation pad and moves into the main room of the house. McCoy has collapsed down onto the couch, one hand pressed across his eyes, and Spock goes to him, gently touching his shoulder, and when McCoy looks up at him Spock kisses him lightly on the lips.  
  
“You are tired, Leonard.”   
  
“Yeah.” McCoy sighs, “Today’s session with the healers was hard. It helped, it was just . . . hard.”   
  
Spock nods and moves towards the kitchen. “I will make us dinner.”   
  
He begins moving things around, taking out food and replicating what he is going to need. In quiet moments like this, when there are no pressing obligations, Spock finds cooking food instead of replicating it to be soothingly ritualistic. After a moment McCoy comes and joins him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter watching Spock.   
  
“Spock, have you ever thought of bonding?” Across the kitchen Spock goes completely still and then turns slowly to face the other man. They had only ever discussed forming a mental bond once, years ago. At the time McCoy had said no and Spock had not pushed it. “It’s just,” McCoy rubs one hand across the back of his neck, “the healers keep assuming we’re bonded, and from what they tell me recovery would be a lot easier on both of us if we could, you know, share the pain.” He smiles weakly and Spock watches him carefully.   
  
“Do you wish us to form such a bond, Leonard?”   
  
“Yes, no, I don’t know if I’m even capable of it.” McCoy crosses his arms over his chest and sighs.   
Spock thinks about this, he has wondered on several occasions if indeed McCoy would be capable of such a bond; it is hard to tell with McCoy how he will or will not respond to telepathy. Spock knows some humans are capable of quite powerful mental connections, while other cannot accept bonding at all. He has long suspected that even if McCoy is capable of forming a mental bond, it would not be as strong as if Spock had bonded to another Vulcan, probably not even as strong as his parents’ bond. It would still be something, though, a level of intimacy they have never shared before, another way for him to try and protect his mate.   
  
“You’ve never pushed this,” McCoy’s been watching him as Spock turns back to their dinner, “but you do want it.”   
  
Spock does not see any logic in denying this since it is true, so merely nods and McCoy sighs again.   
  
“Come here.” McCoy holds out his hands and Spock sets the knife down on the counter and goes to him, and McCoy wraps his arms around Spock’s shoulders and pulls Spock close. “You’re a good man, Spock,” McCoy says softly, warm breath ghosting against the side of Spock’s face, “and I’d be honored to be your bondmate.”   
Spock closes his eyes and lets his head rest gently against McCoy’s shoulder, feels McCoy’s fingers stroke the back of his neck and just holds on.   
  
III.  
  
Leonard McCoy had been officially married twice, and he’d considered himself married to Spock for years - decades even - still, it felt strange that now according to Vulcan law they were officially married. After all the worrying on both their parts, it had been a little anticlimactic, actually. If the rumors and Starfleet gossip were to be believed, there would have been public nudity or at least lots of kinky sex involved, but McCoy figured he should have known that these were Vulcans, so of course it wasn’t nearly that exciting. All it had taken was Spock’s soft touch against his face, a slight pressure in his mind that never really left but wasn’t . . . uncomfortable per se, then the signing of some paperwork and now they were married.   
  
From his place curled up on the couch, McCoy looks out the window into the back yard and sighs. Spock is happy, McCoy can feel it, but more importantly Spock acts happy, not overtly, but it’s there and McCoy can see it. He looks down at the PADD and the message from Jim that says they’re going to have to go back to the Academy soon. McCoy wonders if Spock will be all right with that. He doesn’t worry about himself. He knows he’ll be fine; the Vulcan healers had helped clear a fog and deep ache from his mind he’d barely been aware of. Spock though, McCoy thinks, is in far worse shape than he is. Spock isn’t just working on getting over what Sybok had done, but also his own guilt at not being able to prevent it.   
  
“Leonard.”   
  
McCoy looks up at Spock who’s just walked through the door. “Darlin’”   
  
Spock sits down on the couch next to him, and McCoy touches his shoulder. Spock blinks at him and slowly reaches out and takes McCoy’s hands in his own. McCoy’s smile widens; Spock’s always been attracted to McCoy’s hands - he enjoys holding them, touching them, and McCoy’s always been pretty sure Spock finds it a turn on. McCoy’s hands are smaller than Spock’s, long fingered like his though, and these days increasingly showing his age, skin stretched thin and brittle, wrinkling slightly. If anything though, this only seemed to attract Spock more. Now he turns them slowly over between his own hands, then kisses the back of each and McCoy’s breath catches. Spock hasn’t been overtly sexual with him in months, not since their one aborted attempt at sex after getting home from the mission. Spock carefully turns McCoy’s hands over and kisses each of his palms.   
  
“Spock.” Spock looks up at him and McCoy leans forward and kisses him sweetly on the lips, pulling one hand free to stroke the soft hair behind one of Spock’s long ears. Spock’s hand comes up and recaptures McCoy’s. For a long minute he watches McCoy, and then he stands, pulling McCoy with him toward towards the bedroom, and McCoy smiles and allows anticipation to rise in him, settling low in his belly, making him feel warm and slightly light-headed. When the door to their bedroom slides shut, Spock lets go of McCoy’s hands, dropping his hands to McCoy’s waist and drawing him in for a kiss. Spock’s hands go to the old fashioned button-up shirt McCoy’s wearing, and he slowly, meticulously unbuttons it, then pushes it down off McCoy’s shoulders. Spock kisses McCoy’s shoulder, kisses down his chest, before leading McCoy to the bed and sitting him down on it. “Come on, Spock.” McCoy holds out his hands to the other man, but Spock only shakes his head a little, kisses McCoy again, before sinking to his knees between McCoy’s legs and McCoy draws in a breath as Spock’s fingers undo his pants. He raises his hips and Spock pulls them down and off, his fingers curling around McCoy’s half hard cock. McCoy gasps a little as Spock begins stroking him, keeping his hand firm and strokes short but hard, in the way guaranteed to bring McCoy to full hardness, especially when Spock bends forward and nuzzles him. McCoy can’t help but moan a little then, moving his hips very slightly, and Spock pulls back.   
  
“You are too thin,” Spock tells him softly, and McCoy rolls his eyes although he’s willing to concede that he has been losing weight at a rate that’s a little worrying. Spock rubs one hand across the inside of McCoy’s thigh and nuzzles his cock again. Above him McCoy’s hands clench into the blankets and he swears softly. Spock licks along the underside of McCoy’s cock then takes it fully into his mouth, and McCoy squeezes his eyes shut and can’t help but rock his hips forward. He reaches out blindly for Spock’s hand, his own fingers closing around it and McCoy draws Spock’s hand up to his own mouth, sucking the tip of Spock’s fingers into his mouth. He sucks and then gasps around Spock’s fingers when Spock swallows hard around McCoy’s cock. McCoy moans, scraping his teeth lightly over the tip of Spock’s fingers, and Spock’s other hand clenches on the edge of the bed.   
  
“Spock.” McCoy lets Spock’s fingers slide from his mouth and Spock is pulling away from him, suddenly standing and pushing McCoy backwards to lie flat on the bed. Spock leans over him, kisses him deeply, strokes his fingers through McCoy’s hair, and McCoy’s own hands come up, pushing at the dark cloth of Spock’s robes, undoing the clasps with hands that shake slightly. He pushes the heavy robes off Spock’s shoulders and starts pulling at the other layers Spock is wearing underneath. “Want to see you, sweetheart, need you.” McCoy’s voice is rough and Spock kisses him again and then strips off own shirt, sitting back to kick off his boots, before McCoy pulls him back down for another kiss. They thrust against each other and McCoy runs one hand down Spock’s body, carting his fingers through the hair on Spock’s chest and the slight swell of his belly before undoing the front of his pants. Spock stills for an instant above him as McCoy slides his hand into Spock’s pants, fingers curling around his erection, and for a moment McCoy worries.   
  
“Spock, darlin’, talk to me.”   
  
Spock looks up at him then, lets his fingers touch gently against McCoy’s face, tiny finger kisses across his cheeks and throat. “It’s all right,” he tells him. “It’s all right.”   
  
McCoy swallows hard, closes his eyes and thrusts almost desperately against Spock until he comes, and Spock actually shudders against him, his hips snapping forward until he comes as well.   
  
For several long moments they just lie there together, still half dressed, half on the bed. McCoy presses his face into Spock’s shoulder and Spock cups the back of McCoy’s head slightly. “God, beautiful.”   
  
Spock tilts McCoy’s face up and kisses him. McCoy returns the kiss eagerly and then pushes him off a little to peel off the rest of his clothes, and after a minute Spock does the same. McCoy scoots farther up onto the bed and holds out his hands, and Spock comes to him without hesitation, kisses him, touching his chest and shoulders.  
  
“You didn’t open the link,” McCoy says eventually, and Spock blinks at him. “Our mental bond, isn’t there supposed to be something about it and sex?”  
  
Spock stares at him for a long moment. “The bond formed between bonded mates can reflect the other person’s emotions and experiences,” Spock acknowledges. “This could enhance the sexual enjoyment.”   
  
“Yeah, well?” McCoy looks at him and Spock blinks again.  
  
“We have been together unbonded for so long, I did not think . . .” he finally admits, and McCoy grins at him and leans against Spock’s shoulder.   
  
“Well, we’ll just have to do it again, then.” Spock turns to look at him and McCoy brings both hands up to cup his face and kisses him hard.  
  
  
IV.  
  
“Retirement.”   
  
McCoy runs one hand across his face and sighs. “Yeah, Jim’s not happy, but it’s time, just a few more months and that’s it,” he makes a small gesture in the air, “I’m out.” Spock only nods from the other side of the kitchen table in their San Francisco apartment. “And what are you going to do?” McCoy watches over the rim of his cup of coffee, “Stay in Starfleet? You’re too young by Vulcan standards for retirement.”   
  
“I had thought to retire from Starfleet when you did,” Spock informs him, “to teach, but also to join my father.”   
“Ambassador Spock?” McCoy watches him with faint amusement “Well that’ll be the day.” He takes another sip of coffee and then becomes serious, “That’s going to be a lot more off world work, you know, plus the politics. I’m not sure you’re cut out to be a politician, Spock, and I know I’m not cut out to be a politician’s partner.”   
  
“We will adapt.” Spock looks up from his PADD in time to see something move across McCoy’s face and he reaches across the table for the other man’s hand. “Or I can wait,” he says as gently as possible. “Teaching at the Academy is still a viable option for us both.”   
  
McCoy nods and sighs and then squeezes Spock’s hand before letting go. “I need to go meet with Jim.” He stands and grabs his briefcase, “He’s having a fit about something.”   
  
He heads for the door and then stops, turning back slightly, “Spock?”   
  
Spock rises and comes to stand close to his mate then, and McCoy offers him two fingers in a gesture Spock would never refuse.   
  
“It’ll be all right,” McCoy tells him seriously, and Spock believes this to be true. 

 


End file.
